Everywhere were these noiseless ruddy
creatures of fire drifting near the surface of the water, caught at by
the rarest, scarce visible reflections.
Birkin brought the lanterns from the bigger boat, and the four shadowy
white figures gathered round, to light them. Ursula held up the first,
Birkin lowered the light from the rosy, glowing cup of his hands, into
the depths of the lantern. It was kindled, and they all stood back to
look at the great blue moon of light that hung from Ursula's hand,
casting a strange gleam on her face. It flickered, and Birkin went
bending over the well of light. His face shone out like an apparition,
so unconscious, and again, something demoniacal. Ursula was dim and
veiled, looming over him.
'That is all right,' said his voice softly.
She held up the lantern. It had a flight of storks streaming through a
turquoise sky of light, over a dark earth.
'This is beautiful,' she said.
'Lovely,' echoed Gudrun, who wanted to hold one also, and lift it up
full of beauty.
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